The long, four-story house had a pleasing symmetry when viewed from afar, but the architect had decided to lavish this pleasant outline with pilasters, columns, hexagonal windows, plaster curlicues, pediments, and half-clothed marble women who held up giant urns or pulled back stone draperies. Much of the decoration was in imitation of the ancients, but in such a mishmash of cultures and eras that it confused the eye and upset the stomach.

The inside of the house was not much better, I saw when I entered. The lofty entrance hall was painted with multicolored gods, goddesses, nymphs, satyrs, maidens, shepherds, mermen, and other creatures of the sea, all surrounded by an abundance of gold-leafed moldings certain to give the onlooker a headache.

Bartholomew had already given the carter his coin and legged it around to the back of the house. I envied him. The servants' quarters would be full of bustle, warmth, and normal-looking decor.

The majordomo, after looking askance at my sorry state, told me that the other guests had begun dinner, but I would be taken to them after I refreshed myself. His look told me he'd allow me nowhere near the other guests until I made myself presentable.

The bedchamber to which he led me resembled the entrance hall in decoration, but I consoled myself that I would be sleeping in the dark. The bed at least looked comfortable.

Bartholomew entered as I stripped off my wet clothes. He looked inordinately cheerful for someone who'd ridden through pouring rain on the back of a cart. He unpacked my things, whistling, while I washed up, then he helped me into my regimentals.

"Something amusing you, Bartholomew?" I asked as I fastened the silver braid.

"You'll see, sir."

His good mood after my race to send Easton out of harm's way then our muddy ride irritated me a bit, but I kept my temper in check. I asked no more questions and went downstairs to the dinner in progress.